Back in 2016 I had enough of saying, "one day, I'll...". I decided then and there that I would tackle a single "one day" task at at time. First up to bat - reading.
For as far back as I can remember I lived in a house surrounded by readers. My most prominent memory by far is that of my father sitting on the couch reading. I can still see his long lanky legs crossed in front of him, his upper half obscured by the paper held open in front of his perusing face, his lips pursed in concentration, a slipper precariously dangling from one foot. Many an early Saturday morning I would see the slight swing of his right foot as he patiently reviewed the various articles, the low hum of the Portuguese soccer game on the radio keeping him constant company in the background, and the warm glow of the Saturday morning sunrise as it beamed through the east facing picture window of our living room on Crittenden Square. Unlike so many fathers my dad is no handy man. He is instead a word smith. He might never be able to fix a car engine or struggle to change a tire but reading and writing, now that's his forte. And, if the price is right, he might even talk your ear off if you're willing to discuss soccer or US politics!
As a family we always read. Both my parents are readers as is my sister. I have fond memories of reading on that same couch that my father regularly frequented. My first real obsession: The Babysitters Club! Do you remember Kristy Thomas, Mary Anne Spier, Claudie Kishi and Stacey McGill? Seriously, I would plow through those volumes like a thirsty soldier. And the Super Special books - don't even get me started. I literally made a secret promise to myself that I would one day own and read every single one of those Super Specials. This was just the beginning of my life long love of reading. From there I explored books both in high school and as an extracurricular which led me to a degree in English and Psychology followed by a Masters in English. So I read as a pleasure, as a passion, and with purpose. I was lucky that books led me to my calling which is as an educator and I can tell you that I've spent many a long lonely night marking essays as an English teacher. But the 3 P's of reading came to a full stop when A. I was reading more student essays than polished published works and B. when I had kids.
When I had kids it was like my literate mind shut down and my eyeballs stopped working in sync with my brain. Literature was no where on my agenda. I couldn't make time for it and even if I could, my mommy brain was so fried I couldn't makes sense of it. I can recall trying to read while sleep deprived and in the depths of diaper despair - the words went in, and the words went straight out. I think maybe they dribbled out the side of my ear? Who knows...those were different times...I was so tired I even literally walked into a wall once!
In any case, by 2010 I had abandoned my guilty pleasure of reading almost entirely and en lieu of books I was taking on motherhood by storm. And that was when I found myself saying, "one day I'll read again". That is until Harry came into my life.
Yes, you got it. Harry.
Harry Potter.
While my background was literature and the ivory tower I am, as you are aware, only human and this muggle was wondering what all the fuss was about with J.K. Rowling's phenomenally famous book series.
And with that I began to read again.
Because of Harry I ended up reading about 25 book in 2017. It might have taken an entire year, but I did what most people won't and that made me proud. It also made me wonder: if I can read 25, I wonder if I could do 50?
And so in 2018, I set a personal goal to read 50 books and see where that would take me.
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